


Confession

by ADaughterOfColdharbour



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6048472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADaughterOfColdharbour/pseuds/ADaughterOfColdharbour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a FenHawke prompt on tumblr -<br/>"Something sweet like when they first realized they were in love."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confession

**Author's Note:**

> Hawke's pronouns are they/them so they are any Hawke of your imagining. Enjoy!

Hawke sits in the library of their estate, fingers steepled beneath their chin as they watch the rain through one of the high windows beneath furrowed brows.

Fenris paces his mansion, shoulders slumped as his armorless fingers tighten around the neck of a wine bottle, his throat gone dry as he thinks too hard.

Hawke can feel a tightening in their chest, a nervous feeling deep within their stomach as they wish, deep in their bones, to see him. They wonder where Fenris is, what he is thinking, and whether or not he wants to see them too.

Probably not, they think.

Fenris stops his pacing in front of the hearth, taking a deep pull from the wine bottle to settle his fluttering stomach and wishes he could see Hawke’s face. Would he be allowed to just waltz in, and tell Hawke everything he has held inside?

Probably not, he thinks.

Hawke bites down on their lip, moving to their feet and walking tentatively to the doorway, wondering if they have done enough waiting. Is it the right time? Danarius has been dead a few days, now, and it seems as though Fenris’ past is now completely shaken from him. Is Hawke selfish to believe that now is the time to allow their mind to wander to the possibilities of reuniting with him? With a small feeling of unease, Hawke wonders if he even feels the same about them, after so many years. 

Fenris irritably sets the bottle down on the low table, running his fingers through his hair as he resumes pacing. He has finally, finally, been freed from his former master, in the type of finality that was assured. He had nothing holding him back now, but - it did not feel as he thought it would. He did not fear the Magisters hunting him, not anymore; but he did fear the future that seemed to finally belong to him. He didnt know where to start - no, he knew exactly where. He wanted to start with Hawke.

Hawke is now slowly making their way to the entrance of the estate, and they gently rest their fingertips against the thick wood. It seems so simple; open the door, walk a couple of minutes further into Hightown, arrive at Fenris’, confess their feelings. Simple. Hawke scoffs into the shadowy room, shaking their head. It’s ridiculous, to be that selfish. They couldnt bring themself to heap more onto Fenris’ plate than they already did. 

But -

But he had said, all those years ago, that he needed time. That he couldnt handle the rush of a relationship. And Hawke had understood, of course they had. And now that time had passed, and that he seemed to be ready to take another step …. Fenris had never officially said that he no longer held any affection for them, and a few of Hawke’s friends had even noticed that he couldnt seem to tear his eyes away. Hawke grinned then, chuckling quietly at what everyone must think of them; dancing around each other for years. Hawke shakes their head, and reaches for the red coat hanging next to the door.

Fenris leans against the railing at the top of the stairs, overlooking the first floor with a thoughtful expression. The place is a mess, has been for years and years. He never intended to stay in this Maker-forsaken city, and any attempt to rearrange furniture of fix a leaky roof or in any way make this house **_his_** seems like a commitment. But he had made one, hadnt he? Without saying the words, without even realizing it, he had made that commitment to stand by Hawke’s side, no matter where it took them. And he was content to do just that; walk with them into the Void itself if need be, to protect and assist. Nothing more.

But -

But it was a bit more than that, wasnt it? The words echoed around his head, even as Fenris refused to say them aloud. He cared for Hawke, much more than he let on, much more than he had the night he walked away. And Hawke had never once held it over him; never forced him to explain, never once was cruel or rude or anything but a friend. As Fenris steeled his resolve and hopped over the railing, landing in the dust with barely a thought, he realized that friendship was not quite what he desired. He crossed to the front door quickly, and smiled at his fast-beating heart. His life was his own, and he would do with it as he pleased.

Hawke pulled their hood up against the rain, ignoring the hammering of their heart and running over in their mind what they would possibly begin to say to Fenris when they saw him. I want you back? No, that wasnt right. They would start, Hawke supposed, with a hello -

Fenris hopped over puddles and took the stairs two at a time, pushing his hair from his eyes and desperately hoping it wasnt too late. _I was a fool, a coward; I wanted you to hate me. But I never stopped thinking of you, and I have never once stopped caring about_ -

As Hawke turned the corner into the Chantry Courtyard, they nearly missed the grey and white blur of Fenris, passing just by their left elbow. Eyes wide, they turned instantly on their heel, hand instinctively going out to catch him.

As Fenris’ thoughts kept turning about in his head, only the soft touch at his arm gave him any pause. Turning to look, his heart lodged itself somewhere in his throat, and he came face-to-face with Hawke.

They stared at each other for a silent moment, both of them staring at the other. Was it divine intervention, or just a coincidence? Either way, the hawk and the wolf were sure in their convictions, and began to speak.

“Hawke -”

“Fen -”

They both pause, waiting for the other to speak. Hawke looks to Fenris and Fenris to Hawke, and as one they smile; laughing in the realization at how ridiculous they have both been. They have done enough waiting. In a moment, they are inches away from one another; Fenris’ armor poking Hawke through their soft coat, Hawke’s knees bumping against Fenris’ legs. They lean in, together, and share a kiss that is three years late.


End file.
